Song of Sorrow, Song of Regret
by Askeebe
Summary: Solas disappears from camp one night, and Lavellan follows. He breaks her heart in a most unusual way, and she searches for a way to make things better. Set after their first kiss.


Solas was a loner. Sometimes, Maeve wondered if he was a loner who had discovered the Fade, or if his love of the Fade and its secrets had driven him to exclude everyone else from his life.

Even as the Inquisition grew in strength and numbers, even as her inner circle grew to include oddities like Sera and Cole, Solas remained a loner. Oh, he managed well enough that it wasn't a problem. He had no problem holding his own against Sera and Varric in their verbal sparring, and he was always willing to talk about his adventures in the Fade if one was willing to listen. But he rarely joined in their games of Wicked Grace at the inn. Even on the occasions that he did and their evening festivities evolved into singing along with Maryden, he never joined in. Maeve wondered what sort of singer he was. Maybe he didn't sing because he had a terrible voice, although when the Iron Bull started up, it honestly didn't matter what anyone else sounded like since no one could hear over the Bull.

Even out here in the Hinterlands in their little scouting party, he tended to keep to himself. The sun had set, and it was nearly dark with just the last bit of the western sky stained orange and red. The night would be clear and mild, and already the summer stars were showing up in the sky. The moon was half full and already a hands-breadth above the eastern horizon. Dinner had been eaten and cleaned up, with the bones buried some distance from camp to discourage predators.

Maeve sat quietly on the edge of the firelight, listening with half an ear to Cassandra and Iron Bull discuss the tactics of some of Bull's early missions with the Chargers. Solas was absent, but she knew where he had been headed. As the night deepened, she slowly drew back into the shadows until she could stand unnoticed and hunt down their solitary mage.

Calling on her skill as a Dalish hunter, she stalked silently through the dark woods. The moonlight filtering through the leaves gave her more than enough light to go by. Extending her senses to the fullest, she drank in the tiny movements and sounds of the forest at night, hearing and feeling the battle for life that never ceased in nature.

She tracked Solas easily. He may have lived a life of solitude in the wilderness, but he was a mage, not a hunter. Crushed moss on a tree root, a broken stem, a tuft of wool from his threadbare robes - all these left a trail that was as clear as any herd of halla. An unfamiliar scent made her nose twitch, and she squatted to study the ground in front of her. A nearly imperceptible glimmer under the forest litter made her tilt her head curiously. Ah, a ward. She wasn't surprised when she thought about it. How else would he keep his physical body safe while he was dreaming in the Fade?

Glancing around, she saw an old oak with thick branches conveniently suited to climbing. Slowly, making sure the limbs didn't twitch and give her away, she climbed the branches and crept out until she could see past the screening leaves.

Solas was sitting on the crest of a small open hill, legs crossed and with his staff balanced across his thighs. His back was to her so she couldn't be sure, but she thought his eyes were closed. Was he sleeping? Was he exploring the Fade in this region of the Hinterlands? There didn't seem to be much here worth exploring compared to all the stories he had told her of battlefields and ancient ruins.

Carefully lowering herself until she was lying prone on the thick branch, she pillowed her cheek on her forearm and just watched him. He looked so peaceful sitting there. She wished she could take that peacefulness and transfer it into herself. Ever since awakening with the strange mark on her palm, her life had been one crisis after another. Finding Skyhold had been an unlooked-for boon that had given her and the exhausted people who followed her a chance to rest and regroup, but with winter closing in, she couldn't let the people of the Hinterlands go hungry and cold.

She had been First Hunter of the Lavellan clan, responsible for the physical health and security of her clan. Now, as Inquisitor, she considered herself equally responsible for all who called on the Inquisition for safety and security, but it was a never ending job that frequently left her drained. She found her breath slowing even further as she watched the mage meditate and the stars wheel slowly overhead. She was too much of a hunter to actually fall asleep while stretched out on a branch, but her mind drifted and one by one, the numerous worries that had plagued her fell silent until only the night sounds of the forest and wind filled her head.

Which is why when Solas started singing, she jerked so hard she nearly lost her balance. Cursing to herself, she held still until she was certain the tree leaves hadn't given her away, then she concentrated on his singing. His voice was a low, throaty tenor that whispered to her of dusty, long forgotten secrets. He sang in ancient elvhen so she only caught a word here and there, but the complex melody was heart wrenchingly sad. A sense of majestic things, wild and wondrous and lost forever, came to her, and she wept for things she had never known and now never would.

Why did he keep looking backward, she wondered, if this pain was his reward? She preferred to look forward to a better future for herself, her clan, and her people, but here and now, listening to Solas sing a dirge to their stolen history, she gave herself over to the despair for everything her people had once had and was now gone beyond reckoning.

The verses went on and on; she caught the cadence and intent, if not the specific meaning of each one. The chorus was easier to decipher - a lament for choices made with good intention but leading to disaster. Tears filled her eyes and wet her cheeks, and she almost wept again in relief when the song ended, his last notes trailing off into the darkness. Through it all, he hadn't moved a muscle.

Still hidden behind the leaves, Maeve studied him closely through watery eyes. He was a mystery to her, an apostate who had risked everything to come to her aid when the Breach was newly ripped open. He was knowledgeable of the past, sometimes to the point of pedantry. He had a dry wit that arose at the oddest of times, and the memory of their kiss in the Fade stayed strong and bright. He was searching for something, but she couldn't figure out what it was. Something more than just knowledge of the past. For all that, he was still one of hers, just as much as any member of clan Lavellan, and she refused to let one of hers suffer alone.

Still moving silently, she slipped out of the oak and moved up the hill, stopping just before the wards. He sang of the tragic past. She would show him something better, something to look forward to. The song she chose was a joyous one, sung at the birth of every new child of the clan. Instead of complex, its melody was simple, the better for the younger children to join in. She saw his shoulder twitch when her voice first lifted up to the stars in song, then he waved his hand and the ward between them faded into nothingness.

She stood a little behind him, gazing out into the starry abyss of the heavens as she sang of new life and new hope. He didn't join in, but she saw the corners of his lips twitch up in a smile as the happy tune came to a close. "Thank you, _lethallan_. It is good to be reminded that in spite of everything, there is still joy to be found."

She sank down next to him, close enough to feel his body heat in the mild summer night. "You just have to be willing to open yourself to it, Solas, and you'll find joy in the oddest of places."

Finally he opened his eyes and turned his head to look at her. That slight smile that she'd grown to treasure made an appearance. "Such as in the middle of an Inquisition struggling to face down an ancient Magister bent on destroying the world? Yes, that would be a strange place to find joy, and yet, I believe I have done exactly that."

She reached over and placed her hand on top of his, laying her fingers lightly over his as they wrapped around his staff. "You are unique among the People, Solas, and have so much to teach us. I am sorry that some of our clans were unwilling to listen to you, but so long as I am living, I swear to you that you will always have a place at my side. You do not need to walk alone."

Her words must have touched something deep inside Solas. Underneath her fingers, his hands clenched around his staff and the little smile vanished to be replaced with a look of regret and longing so fleeting that she wasn't sure it was real. He smiled at her, but it felt forced, a mask to reassure a friend. "I...thank you, _lethallan_, but I'm afraid my path is a lonely one."

She squeezed his hand briefly. "If so, it is only because you have chosen so, _ma falon._ A journey shared is a journey eased." Withdrawing her hand, she sat quietly next to him. He didn't speak, and she didn't expect him to. Whatever secrets he carried, he wasn't willing to share them yet. Maybe never. But she hoped she could convince him that he didn't have to walk alone. "Can you teach me some of the songs you know? I'm no Keeper, but I would like to bring back some of our history to our people."

"Of course, _lethallan_," he said with a slight incline of his head. "I would be honored." He didn't teach her the one of heartbreak and loss, for which she was glad, but he taught her ancient songs of the harvest and the hunt, her voice twining around his as they sang to the night sky. She thought of teaching these to her clan, of seeing lost heritage regained. That led to thoughts, hopes if she was honest with herself, that maybe Solas would stay with her and the Inquisition even after they defeated Corphyeus. Such hope, tenuous though it might be, filled her with warmth, just as did his hand wrapped around hers.


End file.
